For those who believe in a world beyond the world

 For those who believe in a world beyond the world


Zarathustra once harboured delusions of the human side, like all who believe in the world beyond. At that time, the world seemed to be the work of an agonizing and agonizing God. At that time, the world seemed like a dream, a fiction created by God. It was like colourful smoke rising in front of a dissatisfied God.


Good and evil, pleasure and pain, me and you. These were thought of as colourful smoke rising before the creator's eyes.


The creator tried to turn his eyes away from him, and that's when he created the world.



To look away from his own suffering and to forget himself. For those who suffer, it is the pleasure that is intoxicating. Intoxicating pleasures and self-forgetfulness. The world once looked like that.


This world, and eternally imperfect world, is a copy of eternal contradiction, and an imperfect copy at least. The intoxicating pleasure is given to the imperfect creator of such a world. The world once looked like that.



​


God, like all other gods, was the work of man and man's delusion. This god was a man, and at least he was only a humble piece of man and his ego. It was, indeed, that this ghost came only from my own burning ashes and heat! It didn't come from the blood.


​


anguish and incompetence. This created a world beyond all those worlds. That brief delusion of happiness that only those who suffer the most can experience. It was a world beyond the world.


The tiredness that comes from risking your life at once to jump up and reach the ultimate, that poor, ignorant tiredness of not wanting anything anymore. This is what made up all the gods and the world beyond the world.


​


Indeed, all existences are difficult to prove and difficult to put into words.


Isn't the most amazing of all things the best attested?


Yes. This contradiction and confusion between self and self speak most honestly about one's existence. And this self that creates, motivates, and evaluates is the measure and value of things.


​


There were always many sick people among those who made up and longed for God. They fiercely hate the cognizant, and they most hate honesty, the newest of virtues.


They always look back to the distant past. At that time, delusions and beliefs were different from what they are today. The mad reason was considered to resemble a god, and doubt was nothing more than a sin.


​


Indeed, what they believe best is the world beyond the world and not the drops of redemption, but their bodies. That is to say, their own body is an object to them.


But to them, the body is a disease, and they want to get out of it. Thus, he listens to the preacher of death and preaches the world beyond the world himself.


Rather, listen to the sound of a healthy body. In a more honest, more mellow sound.


A healthy body, a perfect and upright body, speaks honestly and purely. And it is this body that conveys the meaning of the earth.

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